


These, Our Bodies, Possessed By Light.

by whatamidoingwithmylife



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Friends to Lovers, I swear this has a happy ending, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, and most of the time it isn't even sad, being ghosts can't be all fun all the time, but they have each other, it just... is, sort of, there is a small tiny reference to homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:42:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6593452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatamidoingwithmylife/pseuds/whatamidoingwithmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s pretty lonely being the only ghosts they know of. Not that don’t enjoy each other companies. They do. Louis enjoys it even more then he would like to admit to himself. It just…gets lonely sometimes, you know? Thinking you’ll never be able to interact with anyone else.</p><p>So they play. They try to guess who the mourners are or more times than not they prefer to create a story for them, and it never really matters who they think they are or if they are right or not. If Louis could admit it to himself, he’d acknowledge that he knows Harry still needs to check if the new dead body will have a spirit by their side, trying to make sense of this new phase of their existence. Harry hopes to find someone just like Louis found him, and Louis tries to tell himself it has nothing to do with Louis himself not being enough for him. Harry just doesn’t understand how they could be the only ones.</p><p> </p><p>Or Harry and Louis are ghosts. It's a bit sad but mostly just cold and sometimes lonely. But they have each other, tombstones to jump and trees to climb and Louis thinks that's enough. It will always be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These, Our Bodies, Possessed By Light.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinkskies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkskies/gifts).



> Title is from Richard Siken's Scheherazade and his book Crush is the best book I have ever read so I'd love it if you give it a try.
> 
>  I hope you like this. Xx

 **

 

  _Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us._  
These, our bodies, possessed by light.  
                                                                Tell me we’ll never get used to it.

 

(Scheherazade, Richard Siken. 2005)

 

 **

 

 

It’s still very early in the morning and a birds sing and chirp. It’s that time of the year when the days start to feel colder and people like to feel warm with their oversized coats and comfortable blankets; they avoid staying outside for too long, hurrying on their way to get inside the closest building with a heater system. That’s one of the reasons it’s been very… well, _dead_ , at the cemetery. That and not many people die in a small town. Or they do but all the bodies end up at the bottom of the river or illegally buried in the backyard. Which is probably a good fertilizing actually.

 

A faint sound of a man’s voice is carried to Louis’ ear as he takes his morning walk around the cemetery. His feet stop moving and he tries to relate the voice to a face. Yes! Louis shouldn’t be so happy to recognize the voice of minister Robert James but he is. Cold days occupy his thoughts with things he would rather never think about and minister James always takes the longest reciting Bible’s psalms. Oh, Harry will be so excited when Louis tells him that!

 

**

 

“There’s no way she is the mistress, Lou.”

 

“Of course she is! She looks nothing like him and doesn’t seem to know anyone else here, mate. She’s not family. And she is crying more than the wife even though she is trying to hide it by staying in the back! How else are you going to explain it?”

 

Honestly, Harry is way too good to realize that some people are shitty to others. Or maybe the guy that died wasn’t so bad, but that red-haired woman definitely looks like a mistress. Louis’ seen it a lot of times.

 

“Maybe she’s lost someone the same way? Or she’s lost someone recently? I don’t know why you always think the worst of people, honestly. But you know what? Whatever. Let’s focus on the other people, shall we?”

 

Translucent green eyes stare big into his and it’s not as if Louis could ever say no to Harry anyway. “As you wish, Harry.”

 

They turn to face the mourners. It’s something they do every funeral now. It’s pretty lonely being the only ghosts they know of. Not that don’t enjoy each other companies. They do. Louis enjoys it even more then he would like to admit to himself. It just…gets lonely sometimes, you know? Thinking you’ll never be able to interact with anyone else.

 

So they play. They try to guess who the mourners are or more times than not they prefer to create a story for them, and it never really matters who they think they are or if they are right or not. If Louis could admit it to himself, he’d acknowledge that he knows Harry still needs to check if the new dead body will have a spirit by their side, trying to make sense of this new phase of their existence. Harry hopes to find someone just like Louis found him, and Louis tries to tell himself it has nothing to do with Louis himself not being enough for him. Harry just doesn’t understand how they could be the only ones.

 

Truth be told, neither can Louis. No one explains you shit when you die. No gate in Heaven, no Devil in Hell, no final judgment. Not even a note. _Dear So and So, you're dead. This is a list of things to do when you get bored._

 

He had to figure out on his own what he could or couldn’t do. He had years of loneliness and getting angry at everything and trying to accept that this is how he will exist now and thinking he would be alone for all eternity before Harry came. Harry was a breath of fresh air. Harry is a bit younger than Louis when he died but so much more mature than he was.

 

Harry didn’t get angry for years like Louis did. He got curious. He got thoughtful. Most nights Harry would ask Louis questions about the universe and existence. During the days Louis could find him creating poems and repeating them out loud so he wouldn’t forget them the next day. Louis himself had memorized a few of Harry’s beautiful words but he wouldn’t dare to tell Harry that. He’s afraid he’d stop reciting them.

 

“How do you think he died?” Harry’s voice is a bit too sad. A kind of sadness that is there too often and Louis tries his best for it to go away.

 

“I think he was a secret agent.”                                            

 

“Oh, really?” Harry asks with a hint of a grin.

 

“Yeah. And the woman crying at the back is actually his partner, whom he saved from being killed. That’s why she is crying more than anyone. And it’s classified so she doesn’t know anyone here and she can’t tell his family that he is actually a hero. Honourable life, honourable death. I bet it was a bullet through his chest. Poor family, they probably think he was robbed then killed.”

 

“Really tragic. We just lost a hero. Great man he was.”

 

“Do you think he died fighting aliens?”

 

Harry chuckles and speaks with amusement. “Aliens? Real extra-terrestrials?”

 

“Why not? Aren’t you the one who always talks about how it is too pretentious of us to think that we’re the only intelligent creatures in the whole universe?”

 

“Yes, I do think that. But I also like to think that other forms of lives are far too intelligent to interact with humans.”

 

“You think we are superior then? Protect yourselves creatures of the universe!”

 

“No, not quite like that. I think we are quite awful. We would declare war before trying to understand and learn with them. That’s not my only view on humans, but it’s the one when it comes to dealing with the unknown. We make slaves and treat as inferiors everyone that’s different. And we don’t try to understand that those differences are not wrong. I would pity any extra-terrestrial that ends up here. Be it a mistake or not.”

 

“I’m not sure I pity them, but I do pity us.”

 

**

 

“Look, Lou! A cat!”

 

There is indeed a cat. It was resting on Harry’s grave and as the boys got closer to it, it turned its head to them. That’s nothing unusual. There are a lot of cats at the cemetery daily and they all seemed aware of Louis, though Louis is not sure if Harry sees them a lot. There’s a woman that puts milk in a bowl for them but it’s at the other side of the cemetery so that’s where most cats go.

 

“Yeah, I can see it too, Hazza, I think it likes your tombstone.”

 

“He looks just like a cat I had when I was a kid! Dusty! Dusty!” Harry calls out but instead of luring the cat, it starts to run away. “Come and chase it with me, Louis!”

 

So they run. Louis can’t remember if he has run before. At least not ever since he died. The weak feel of the ground and the cold breeze are still just a fraction of what they used to be when he used to breathe, but are so much more than what he is used to. He is not even looking for the cat anymore; he is just running.

 

Louis doesn’t notice that Harry stopped running until he stops a few inches from running into a wall. Well, not into, but through it. It’s been awhile since he learned to walk through them but he keeps forgetting that he is able do so.

 

It’s been way too long since he last played football and he misses the burn in his chest and fighting to inhale air. If he closes his eyes he can almost imagine himself lying on the ground, his back pressing against the field grass, fighting to catch his breath.

 

He looks down and sees his chest rising quickly with shallow breaths that he isn’t aware he is taking. He thinks it’s funny how he knows there’s air coming in and out of his body even though he isn’t aware of it; even though he doesn’t need to breathe; even though it’s not really a body anymore. He can’t feel the air; he doesn’t know where it goes. He thinks of it as a body memory that won’t go away. He has no idea how or why it happens but as long as he has air to pronounce words and talk with Harry, he doesn’t mind not knowing.

 

“Where’s the cat?” Louis scans their surroundings but can’t find it anywhere.

 

Harry is staring at a fixed point on the cemetery wall to their right. “It jumped. It’s outside.”

 

“Oh.” They can’t go outside. Louis tried it for years. He tried to walk, dance, jump and kick his way through. He tried the front entrance and walking through walls and even going through the earth. He had tried every possible way he could think of, and so did Harry. “Maybe it will come back.”

 

Harry is still fixating on that one point. “Maybe.”

 

Louis can’t think of anything else to say as Harry looks down and shakes his head before walking away.

 

**

 

“Oi, Hazza! I’m going to jump around. Would you like to come?”

 

“Louis, that’s very rude!”

 

That’s the answer he gets every time he invites Harry to join him, but Harry still looks upset about the cat, so Louis didn’t want to leave him alone.

 

“Please?” Pleading eyes and a pout usually work with Harry but never about this.

 

“No, I’ll go to my tree and I’ll think or sing or anything that doesn’t involve being disrespectful. You should consider trying that too.”

 

And Harry isn’t being mean, he is just very strong minded about a few things. One of them is that everyone deserves respect and should be treated nicely, unless they do something bad to others. Even then he wouldn’t be uncivilized. Harry is just too good of a soul and Louis holds him in high regard for that.

 

And Louis is good and polite, also. But only when he thinks people deserve it. And sometimes, yes, he can be a bit cheeky and sarcastic but he was used to having to defend himself with words. He was used to mean people. But not anymore. Now it’s just Harry and himself. And he was never mean. It’s just that in this specific situation he doesn’t see the point in trying to be polite to people that got their eternal rest or whatever and have no idea what is going on with their graves while he’s stuck here every day extremely bored.

 

“C’mon! What difference does it make if I jump from tombstone to tombstone? It’s fun for me and they’re all dead anyway.”

 

“And so are we! Would you like it if there were other ghosts and they didn’t respect your resting place?”

 

“At least they are resting so as long as they are enjoying their eternal peace and I’m not, I think it’s rude of them to be, not of me to jump. I wouldn’t mind it if the roles were reversed. I would like it if people had fun close to me; this place really needs it, ya? A couple could snog on top of me tombstone for all I care!”

 

The scandalized eyes and shocked expression on Harry’s face make Louis laugh. At least he doesn’t look so gloomy anymore.

 

“What? You’ll tell me you never kissed any girl at a cemetery? I thought that was the sort of thing you grunge kids did to look cool? Aren’t you supposed to find that sort of thing aesthetically pleasing or whatever?”

 

It’s Harry’s turn to softly laugh now. “I’ve explained it to you! We are called _hipsters_. I know you never met another one before but that doesn’t mean we don’t exist and it’s different from grunge. And though I have to admit it would be very aesthetically pleasing for my Instagram, I don’t think I could.”

 

Louis is opening his mouth to ask what is an Instagram but Harry’s next words are out of his mouth before Louis’ are. “And if I could, it wouldn’t be with a girl.”

 

Suddenly to find out what _Instawhatever_ is doesn’t seem important anymore. They had talked about so many subjects, but they hardly ever talk about anything personal. Their beliefs, taste, what they liked or didn’t like, even what the world was like through their eyes, sure. Louis knows Harry, he does. But they avoided talking about family, friends, lovers… It hurt too much to remember them. Even more when they realized they have no idea how those people that they love are and most of them never bother to stop by and bring flowers so.

 

Sexuality was never brought up. They had so much more to talk about and it never seemed necessary. Louis avoided every subject that could lead to that because he is not an idiot. He knows what he feels for Harry. But he also knows that all they have now is each other and he can’t ruin that with his feelings. So not knowing what Harry was into was wise. It didn’t give him hope just to torment his thoughts.

 

“It… No?” Wow, Louis. Stunning, really. Very eloquent.

 

Harry stares into Louis eyes and Louis tries really hard not to look anywhere else because he knows he shouldn’t; this feels important.

 

“No. Females are not really my type.”

 

 _Human_ Louis would laugh at how ridiculous it is to say something like that. _Females are not really my type_. Harry’s the only person he knows that would say something like that, that quirky bastard. Human Louis would make a witty comment about it. He would agree with Harry that they aren’t his as well. But _ghost_ Louis…

 

Ghost Louis is lost in Harry’s gaze and drowning in the weight of his words and what he wants them to mean. He is trying to control himself because it’s not just because Harry doesn’t like women that he will eventually fall in love with Louis. He might not even like men too, that’s a possibility. Louis is too lost and Harry’s eyes are expecting something to read.

 

“I had a boyfriend that would be into that though. Maybe he would have convinced me.” It’s said too long after his last words so that’s what makes Louis realize Harry was uncomfortable with the extended silence. It’s unusual, he probably doesn’t know what to think. But now Louis know Harry _is_ into men. So there’s that.

 

“Oh.” Really, Louis? _Really_? Honestly, Louis has no idea why he was allowed to interact with anyone ever.

 

An eyebrow raises on Harry’s face as he looks like he is trying to figure out what Louis is thinking.

 

“I’ll- I’ll go jump now, it’s getting late. I’ll see you again in a bit. Enjoy your tree, Harold.”

 

**

 

So Louis shouldn’t have done that. He knows he was wrong. One should never flee from a place right after someone comes out to them. He knows that. That’s why after calming his feelings and processing this new information and trying to school his reactions to normal behaviour, he tries to think of a way to apologize.

 

Of all the things he could say, he has trouble thinking of something that wouldn’t give too much of his feelings but wouldn’t feel cold or heartless. They feel enough of that already.

 

When Louis gathers the courage to find Harry there’s still an hour or so to dawn. The timing is perfect because there is something he hasn’t shared with Harry yet and he wants to now. And he is sure that it is something he will like.

 

Louis finds Harry sat on his favourite branch, murmuring softly to himself words that Louis can’t make sense of.

 

“Harry.” It doesn’t sound as strong as Louis wanted.

 

Harry snaps his head to his direction. It’s not the usual warm eyes that greet him, it’s apprehensive ones. Harry’s Adam’s apple bobs out of reflex. Louis attempts a smile.

 

“Will you follow me, Hazza?”

 

At the use of the nickname Harry visibly relaxes.

 

“Always, Lou.”

 

So Louis leads them to his favourite spot at the cemetery.

 

“Harry, I know you don’t like to jump tombstones with me, but will you please climb this mausoleum with me? There’s something I really want to show you.”

 

“Louis, I’m not- “

 

“Harry.” It isn’t usual of Louis to interrupt Harry. Even when he takes what feels like a lifetime to pronounce his words. They have so many lifetimes ahead of them so Louis loves it when Harry speaks. Harry will probably understand how important this is. “ _Please_.”

 

And it works. Harry studies his expression and nods his head.

 

“Thank you.” Louis smiles and Harry mirrors him. “You can go first, Harry. It should be easy with all the tree climbing you do, monkey boy.”

 

“Heyy!” Harry laughs as he climbs the mausoleum. When he reaches the top, he asks Louis, “do you want me to give you a hand?”

 

“No, I’m good. Just back away a bit?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

Hands and feet touch the places they are used to and Louis starts to feel much better already. He sits a few feet from Harry and takes in the view and doesn’t talk for a while. Harry mirrors him and doesn’t ask for explanations, patiently waiting. They have all the time in the world anyway.

 

“This is my favourite spot of the whole cemetery.” Louis starts when he feels he is ready. “When I was still very new at whatever this is, I used to get so frustrated that I couldn’t go outside and see people I know. Or knew, I guess. The only people that would come in were mourners and workers and I felt very lonely. Day after day, it got lonelier and lonelier. I felt stuck here. And we are but back then I really _felt_ it, you know? And it got too much for me, so I just wanted to see what was going on outside. To try to escape here, even if it was just a glimpse at what I was missing. So I searched for a way out and I didn’t find it but... I did find this mausoleum. It’s the tallest one I found and its placement is just right: close to the walls. So I got up here and stared at the streets outside for three days straight. I didn’t come back here for months after that first time.”

 

He can feel the weight of Harry’s gaze. He licks is lips before he continues.

 

“I love it here. It reminds me that there’s so much out there. That this cemetery isn’t everything. I love to come here at the end of the night, right before dawn. I like to watch the world waking up. There’s something so calming about it. And I get to see the whole cemetery too. And the best is that I can see the fog on both sides.”

 

“The fog?” Harry asks when it seems like Louis wouldn’t explain it any further.

 

“Yes. When I was alive I loved the rain. Even drizzles, but my favourite were the storms. I loved to listen to the thunders. Still do. But what I loved most about the rain was the feel of the raindrops against my skin. That’s something that’s impossible now so.” Louis lifts his shoulders. “I like the fog best now. It reminds me of me. Of us, ghosts. We are a bit like the fog now, aren’t we?” Louis looks into Harry’s eyes and then back to the world outside. “I think it’s beautiful. How it swirls enchants me. It either allows me to think clearly or it allows me to stop thinking. And it’s always the one I need the most. That’s why this place is so important for me. I feel an especial connection and I guess that’s why I never invited you to come with me. I’m not sure what changed but it felt important to share this with you.”

 

“Louis, I-.” Louis looks at Harry and only then he continues. “Thank you. I love it.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yes. Thank you so much for sharing it with me. It means a lot to me. That you trust me that much. And, wow. Yeah, I can see why you like it here so much. It’s beautiful. I love what you said about the fog.”

 

Harry’s smile is stunning and maybe it’s unfair to compare it to what Louis just said but that smile makes Louis feel the same way the fog does.

 

They watch the world outside. A couple of cars speed by. Birds sing. Someone opens a door. Lights are turned on inside houses. A blanket of comfort and calmness wraps around them.

 

The end of the night rushes Louis to speak. He’s afraid the light of the day will expose too much.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Louis?”

 

“I’m sorry about earlier today.”

 

“Oh. It’s okay. I mean. I’m not- I don’t know.”

 

Louis hates himself a bit more.

 

“No, it is not okay, Harry. I shouldn’t have run off like that. I haven’t got a clue what I was thinking, but I can guarantee you it was nothing personal. I don’t want you to think you can’t tell me anything. This was obviously important and I ruined it. And I am sorry.”

 

Harry nods and Louis never feels anything but cold now but he swears Harry’s smile warms him. “Thank you, Louis. I accept and appreciate your apology.”

 

He could leave it at that. He could stop talking and he would never have to tell Harry he is gay too. Maybe it would be easier that way. But it would also feel like lying.

 

Louis wraps his arms around his legs. He can do this. Even though he has never talked about it, he can. It’s Harry. He can tell Harry anything.

 

“I never came out to anyone.”

 

“What?” The confusion is there in his voice.

 

“It took me awhile to understand my feeling, but I guess I always knew. My stepdad would probably have kicked me out if I had told them. But deep down I think me mom always knew. She would look at me funny whenever I talked about my girlfriend.” Huffs. “My friends, they would make horrible jokes. They thought they were so funny but they were just tossers. So I never came out to any of them. They would be disgusted, really. They would have thought I had AIDS and would never touch me again. They weren’t horrible people but that’s what everyone used to think about gay people. I don’t know how it was for you but... I did meet some great people when I moved here though. They were the best friends I could have hoped for. We had the best of times hanging out, even though the world didn’t like us very much. And they just _knew_ , no need for words. That’s why I never came out to anyone before. It’s never too late for a first time, I guess.”

 

Louis finds Harry’s eyes and the strength inside himself.

 

“I’m gay.”

 

“Louis, I-” If there were heartbeats to count, Louis would have felt at least five quick heartbeats before Harry finally managed to speak properly. “I’m sorry that that was your reality. And I’m sorry the world was mean to us. They are on their way to being better but. I’m. I’m honoured to be the first person you come out to. Thank you for trusting me and sharing it.”

 

“Hey, no being sorry! It’s been so long. And I’m a strong lad!” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it seems to him.

 

“Yes, you are.” And Harry is not smiling. He is serious and he means it.

 

Louis wants to thank him but he isn’t used to people complimenting him. Not for anything that matters. Not by someone that matters. He fights the urge to hug Harry and stares at people on the street outside.

 

“Do you think we are the only ones?” Harry asks as the sky begins to change its colour.

 

“There are probably others like us at other cemeteries. I used to think that I couldn’t be the only one and wish for it to be true. A part of me thinks I shouldn’t have wished for that because no one should exist like this. And then you came and I’m not ashamed that I was selfish. I don’t know if we’ll never find another one like us, that’s not something I expect to happen anymore. It’s not something I want to happen anymore.”

 

“I think a part of me still expects someone to show up. And it’s not because I want some- It’s not that I _hope_ for it to happen. I just want someone to give me answers. I just wanted to understand if there’s even a pattern. Why us? And I don’t want to feel offended by that, Lou, I don’t- Of all the people I could have imagined to be spending the rest of my existence with, you’re better than what I could have imagined. In a twisted way I’m glad it’s us because I had the opportunity to meet you and otherwise I wouldn’t have had it. I’m just, I’m glad it’s you.”

 

There’s so much honesty in Harry’s words and Louis can feel the tension around them. He can feel the weight of Harry’s words and his eyes and he can imagine the weight of the words that want to crawl out of his throat.

 

“I’m also very glad it’s you and no one else. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.” He doesn’t have to mention that he is not religious but he constantly thanks the universe for allowing their paths to cross.

 

A smile in a translucent being shouldn’t be as blinding as Harry’s. It shouldn’t work like the Sun, pulling Louis to its gravitational field, keeping him close. Fighting the urge to be closer.

 

Harry gets closer to him and he shouldn’t feel as if his heart was trying to break out of his chest because that wouldn’t make sense. He doesn’t want to push Harry away but he doesn’t want _it_ to happen again. It would hurt too much.

 

“Harry-,” before he has time to think of how to continue the sentence, a meow is heard.

 

The tension is broken and Harry looks around trying to find the source of the noise and Louis can only feel relieve.

 

“Louis, look! It’s the cat!” Harry’s mouth splits his face in half as he gets down to the ground and goes to the cat that seems to be waiting for him.

 

“I told you it would come back, Harold!”

 

Louis gets down too and when he turns to look at Harry, the cat is rubbing himself against his legs. Harry crouches to pet it.

 

The second Harry’s hand pets the cat and continues to do so, it’s the second Louis’ world stops. The cold air feels freezing and the feelings mixed. His mouth involuntarily opens and his thoughts race in his head.

 

This shouldn’t have been possible. The cat is alive, he is sure of it. Then… How? Does he think that maybe…? Or is it wanting too much?

 

Harry turns to him while still scratching behind the cat’s ear.

 

“Lou, won’t you come and meet Dusty?”

 

And he sort of wants to run because he wouldn’t know what to do if it didn’t change anything but he also wouldn’t be able to exist with himself with that idea always on his mind. What if?

 

Harry smiles is what decides it for him. He steps closer and closer, until he is only a couple of feet away from them.

 

“Harry. Please, stand up?”

 

They are both upright and Harry’s eyes are inquiring everything his words aren’t.

 

“Do you know why I never touch you?”

 

Harry looks taken aback by the question. Hurt, even. He shakes his head.

 

“Every time I tried to get too close to you, you would back away and I thought it was just a matter of intimacy. You had to know me first. But then we were close and you still didn’t allow me to come near you so I thought it was me. You had a problem with me. But then it didn’t sound possible so I thought that’s just the way you are. Or have become. That you just don’t like anyone touching you.” He looks down and sound too shy. “Was I right?”

 

“No.” Harry’s eyes shoot up. “My mom came here to visit me once a year during my first three here. She would tell me about my sisters and work and my stepdad. I would stay by her side listening and crying. Before she went, I always tried to hug her. To hold her hand. But instead it - It always left me so heartbroken that I wouldn’t- When she stopped coming, I panicked. I thought that I would never be able to try and learn how to comfort her my own way.”

 

Louis can feel the cat rubbing its tail on his legs and he swallows a sob.

 

“Then you came and at first I didn’t know how to act around you. You are so beautiful and you looked so lost… I wanted to hold your fears away but I was scared. And I told myself that maybe when you were a ghost for some time we could try touching each other arms or whatever. I didn’t think I would feel this way. I didn’t think I would fall in love with you, that I would be too deep into you that the thought of not being able to touch you would hurt me so much that I wouldn’t wanna risk it. That-”.

 

Louis looks down then closes his eyes to fight back the tears. And it is stupid that there are tears coming out of his eyes. It’s stupid that they are ghosts. And existence is stupid too.

 

“I love you too.”

 

There’s something braver about sharing feeling in the daylight. You feel even more vulnerable and even more exposed.

 

Harry raises his right hand and slowly moves the inches that separate it from Louis face. The shaking hand and the shivering body meet and Louis stares at the hand as if it would make it obey him. Louis raises his own hand and positions his trembling right hand inches from Harry’s skin.

 

They stare at each other’s hands and then at each other eyes. They are doing it together, as it should always be. They mirror a small nod and reach for a feel they crave for.

 

A soft and trembling sensation is felt against Louis’ cheek and when it doesn’t change after seconds, Louis’ tears roll down. He can _feel_ Harry leaning his head against his hand. They don’t even have time to smile before their desperation makes them act.

 

A cold, paper thin kiss. A faint touch that seems to awake every inch of Louis dead atoms. A sensation he yearned for for so long. A feeling he will never forget. A feeling he doesn’t want to ever stop feeling. Which is to say a lot since they do have eternity ahead of them.

 

Maybe this is why they are the only ones. Maybe they’ll never know why them. But Louis will always think this is the reason. This, right here, filling his being with a sense of comfort and hope and it feels _right._ It feels perfect.

 

They break the kiss.

 

“Tell me we’ll never get used to this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading it. It means a lot to me that you finished it.
> 
> Also, thanks to my friend, A, for proofreading it. You are amazing.
> 
> And I can't help but mention that pinkskies had great prompts and I wish I could write them all but I'm afraid I would ruin them. I would love to read them one day, though. I hope this was what you were expecting, and if not, that it wasn't so bad.
> 
> The prompt was: "They're dead. It's not sad, just cold. Louis likes to jump from tombstone to tombstone. Harry thinks that's rude, so he climbs the trees instead. The fog swirling in the morning is their favorite part." I hope what I wrote is good enough.  
> All the love. Xx.


End file.
